Against All Odds
by wildspiritontheloose
Summary: A loner finds himself on the wrong side of SeaClan's border and must prove his worth to the Clan if they are to keep him alive. Though survival seems impossible in this harsh environment, there is something that connects the living and can bring even a prisoner and his captor together. (Challenge for LeafClan and CloudClan)
1. Part 1: Capture

**A/N: It would seem that I am incapable of writing short 'short stories', so this is going to be more of a novella. Since this turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, it will be split up into 4 parts (capture, trial, verdict, and rescue) so that it isn't a giant wall of discouraging text. ****It is an entry into the Tainted Love challenge in both The Clan of Clouds and LeafClan, so maybe it's fair that it's extra long. Enjoy!**

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"You don't belong here."

The words echoed inside of his head, growing louder and louder until they were all he could hear. It made hunting difficult, but he had to try. There was no home to go back to, no one to share their kill with him - though that in itself had never been a common occurrence. He was so tired of eating spiders and flies.

The brown tabby padded on, shoulders hunched forward against the cold of the salty air around him. A dull roar in the distance competed with the one within his own head, and the combination threatened to overwhelm him. The shrill cry of a gull sounded overhead, causing him to shiver. What was this strange place?

Glancing down, he saw dark grey rock, similar to the asphalt he was used to having beneath his paws, but foreign at the same time. Here and there, small tufts of grass grew, vastly different from the brick and concrete world he knew. The air here smelled of salt and water; there, it had been all smoke.

Absorbed in the strange sights and smells, the tom did not notice the grey and white shapes moving towards him until it was too late. He fell to the ground, sides heaving from the impact of a body on his own. This, at least, was familiar.

A new scent entered his nose and, despite the terror he felt, the tom found himself wrinkling his snout in disgust. The smell was unpleasant, a mixture of fish and salt that tickled his nostrils on its way up and left a revolting taste in his mouth.

"What are you doing here?" spat a voice in his ear, and he lifted his green eyes to its source. Above him stood a little white she-cat, beautiful amber eyes glowing fiercely. He parted his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Closing it again, he imagined that he looked very much like the fish this cat smelled of.

Her claws dug into his shoulders and he gave a small yelp, trembling beneath her weight. Words were failing him and he knew he would lose a battle if it came to it; after all, he'd never won a single battle in his life. It was all he could do to keep from crying out in terror, like the scaredy-cat he was.

"What have you got there, Swanpaw?" The new voice was low, mocking.

"A loner, I think," the white she-cat standing over him replied, a questioning look in her eyes.

"A loner? From the way he's shaking, I'd say he was a kittypet. What should we do with him? Shred him to little bits?" The low voice belonged to a muscular black and white tom, who came into view over the she-cat's shoulder soon after, sharp claws already unsheathed. This time, the pinned tom did cry out, a high-pitched sound that sounded very much like the shrieks of the gulls circling overhead.

"You will do no such thing," said another voice. Two more cats appeared and the tabby stopped struggling against Swanpaw's claws.

"What is your name?" asked the new she-cat, this one a pale gold in colour.

Swallowing back the bile that rose into his throat, he replied, "Frog."

This earned snickers from Swanpaw and the muscular tom, but they were silenced with one glare from the pale gold she-cat. Frog could not blame them for laughing at the name and, in all truth, was used to being snickered at. He had been named Frog because of his penchant for eating bugs as a kit. Even now, his meals consisted of beetles and ants, due to his terrible hunting skills.

"Gannetfur, head back to camp and let Sleetstar know we've caught a loner on our territory," the she-cat said. "Snowflower, scout the area for signs or scents of others. Swanpaw, lead the way back to camp." To Frog's astonishment, each cat gave a nod and, with one last look at him, went about their assignments.

"H-h-how?" he stuttered, gazing at the she-cat in awe.

"'How' what?" she replied, pushing him ahead of her. She nodded towards Swanpaw's small form, indicating that he should follow.

Frog swallowed again. "How did you do that?"

The she-cat continued in an exasperated tone. "What do you mean? I'm the leader of this patrol, they listen to my orders." From the way she walked, back straight and head held high, Frog thought her more important than that.

He stayed silent, following Swanpaw - _what a peculiar name_ \- over the grey rock and towards the sound of crashing water. Every so often, she would glance back at him with narrowed eyes before continuing forward at a more brisk pace than before, tail held high. Ahead of her, the black and white form of Gannetfur - _also a strange name,_ Frog thought - disappeared suddenly, as if falling off the edge of the cliff. Though the tabby did not like the tom one bit, he gave a start.

"Don't worry, Gannetfur is fine," the she-cat behind him purred. Frog nodded, unconvinced.

As they drew near to the place where the tom disappeared, Frog understood the sudden drop. Swanpaw, who had been walking steadily so far, suddenly jumped downwards, landing with a soft thud on a ledge below.

One glance and the tom wondered if he would make it out of this ordeal alive.

Far below, the white of frothing waves crashed up against the rock of the cliff. The water was dark and dangerous, coming up suddenly and receding just as quickly, sucking at the rock as if trying to break it apart. The rock stood firm, providing Swanpaw with ledges to leap down onto. She was already halfway down the cliff.

Frog felt the she-cat behind him nudge his shoulder with her nose and he gulped. Reaching out his paw tentatively, he shivered as the cool sea air brushed against it. Heart in his mouth, he stepped off of the cliff into thin air, closing his eyes tight.

Moments later, he found himself on a ledge, firm rock beneath his paws again. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Frog moved onto the next one, keeping his eyes open this time. As he descended the cliff, one small jump at a time, his breathing became more relaxed and his fur lay flat.

He finally reached the spot where Swanpaw waited, the other two she-cats right behind him. The pale gold one took the lead, stepping through an opening in the cliff wall. Frog followed, finding himself in a cold tunnel.

It seemed as if they were walking for hours before the tunnel finally opened up onto another ledge. This one was more open, jutting out from the cliff and creating a clearing of sorts amongst the tall rock walls. One side fell away, revealing a rocky beach below, the sea slapping against the stones in a rhythmic pattern.

Frog stared out at the water, the setting sun making the waves look like the moving pelt of a black and orange beast. He would have liked to stay and watch the sunset, as he had so often done from the rooftops of his Twolegplace, but the two white cats bringing up the rear were already pushing him along. Crossing the clearing, they disappeared into another tunnel on the opposite wall.

This time, the tunnel was shorter, opening up into a cave. Somewhere, water dripped down from the ceiling, the sound echoing about the enclosed space. The damp, humid air stuck uncomfortably to Frog's tabby pelt. To add to his discomfort, he soon found himself the centre of attention, twenty pairs of eyes staring right at him.

"Where did you find him, Honeypool?" asked a deep voice and Frog turned his eyes to a large stone in the centre of the cave where a giant grey cat stood. If the pale gold she-cat - Honeypool - seemed important by the way she carried herself, she was no match for this muscular tom.

"Near the border closest to Twoleg Place," Honeypool answered, clear voice bouncing off of the cave walls. "Swanpaw leaped onto him and held him down. He didn't put up a fight."

"Screamed like a dying gull is what he did," Gannetfur pitched in, causing a mirthful murmur to rise up amongst the gathered cats. They were silenced by the tom, clearly the leader of the group, as he swept his amber gaze over them. Frog marvelled at the discipline of the group and the authority of the leader.

Then, the eyes fell upon him and Frog knew why the tom was clearly revered. Wisdom shone in those amber orbs, one that only came with experience and age, accompanied by a sort of steel that spoke of a harsh life. The eyes narrowed and Frog found himself trembling with fear.

"Didn't put up a fight, did he?" The grey tom leaped down from the rock, moving towards the tabby with a surprising grace for his size. He circled Frog once, looking him up and down before taking a seat before him.

"You will look at me when I speak to you." Frog did not dare disobey his order, though the mere idea of meeting the tom's eyes reduced him to a shivering mess. It took all of his courage to raise his head.

"What is your name?"

Once again, his words deceived him and he sat there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"I will only ask you once more: what is your name?" The tom had unsheathed his claws, scraping them against the stone floor as he did so.

"Frog." The answer came immediately.

"Frog." The tom repeated the name in a bored voice, as if doubting the truth of the word. All Frog could do was nod, flicking his eyes to the rock that hung down like icicles from the cave ceiling.

"Alright, _Frog_. I am Sleetstar, leader of SeaClan, and from this day until I decide what to do with you, you are my prisoner." Following the matter-of-fact statement, Sleetstar turned away and leaped back onto his rock, now addressing the whole Clan. "There has been suspicious activity going on around all of our borders. The loners of Twoleg Place are lusting for blood; MoorClan is running low on prey; the sea is bringing in all manners of dangerous creatures. Keep your eyes open for more intruders. For now, we will have to deal with this one." His amber eyes were cold when he turned them back to Frog. With a flick of Sleetstar's tail, the Clan moved towards the tabby.

As they got closer, it seemed almost as if the walls were closing in on him. The whole of SeaClan, as Sleetstar called it, was made up of cats that blended into the rock around them - shades of white, grey, black and gold. And now, they drew near him, teeth bared and claws unsheathed, eyes flashing in the dim light of the cave. He wondered whether he'd even stopped shaking since stepping foot on their territory.

"_Frog_," said a gold she-cat off to his left. "Do you think that means we won't have to feed him our fresh kill?" She snickered.

"I think he'll be fine crunching on the spiders in his new home," replied another one.

"Think we can mark him up a little bit before locking him away?" asked a grey tom, eyes glinting with cruelty.

"He won't put up a fight, so why not?" sneered Gannetfur, claws flashing.

They were drawing nearer and all Frog could do was cower before them, knowing Gannetfur's words to be true. He was a coward, a failure of a cat.

"Stop it, you fish-brains!" cried a new voice. A tom pushed through the murderous crowd, the faintest hint of blue in his grey pelt. He smelled of leaves and earth, and Frog immediately felt more at ease.

"If you want what little herbs are in the medicine den going to heal the injuries you inflict upon our prisoner, then so be it," he told them. "Just know that leaf-bare always comes quickly, and death even more so. StarClan will judge you for breaking the warrior code."

This seemed to strike a chord with the gathered cats and they slowly began to melt away, some more hesitantly than others. Gannetfur lingered longest, casting one last glance at Frog before disappearing into one of the tunnels around the circumference of the cave.

The tabby let out the breath he had not realized he was holding in and turned to the cat who, quite possibly, saved his life.

"Come along, I'll take you to your den. I expect you won't be leaving it for a while." Frog's words of gratitude were cut off and, accepting his fate without hesitation, he followed the blue tom to a tunnel furthest from the cave entrance. Inside, the tunnel opened up into another cave, big enough for about two or three cats.

"I'll get Eggpaw and Loonfeather to take first guard duty," the tom said as Frog surveyed his 'new home'. "They will be least likely to bother you or cause you harm." The tom vanished before Frog could thank him or ask his name.

Circling the cave a couple of times, the tabby made himself as comfortable as he could on the hard rock floor. While his situation seemed dire, he consoled himself with the fact that at least he wouldn't have to sleep out in the open as he had ever since leaving his home. His stomach growled, reminding him of the fact that all he ate that morning were some ants, having been unable to catch the single mouse that crossed his path.

Outside of his den, he heard the scuffling of paws as his guards arrived and the murmuring of voices, too low to hear clearly. Raising his head off of his paws, Frog gazed at the entrance of the cave to find two amber eyes looking back. They became slits as he stared into them, before disappearing, along with the white tail of the she-cat they belonged to.

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**Allegiances**

≻ Frog : brown tabby tom with green eyes; loner

**Leader**

≻ Sleetstar : large light grey tom with glowing amber eyes

**Deputy**

≻ Goosebelly : grey she-cat with white belly and paws; amber eyes

**Medicine Cat**

≻ Rainberry : blue-grey tom with amber eyes

**Warriors**

≻ Swiftclaw : muscular black and white tom with amber eyes _Apprentice: Fishpaw_

≻ Palefur : light grey tom with amber eyes

≻ Poolheart : silver tabby she-cat with green eyes

≻ Boulderclaw : dark grey tom with amber eyes _Apprentice: Hailpaw_

≻ Flywing : grey tom with amber eyes

≻ Honeypool : pale gold she-cat with green eyes _Apprentice: Swanpaw_

≻ Mistcloud : pale gold she-cat with amber eyes _Apprentice: Eggpaw_

≻ Snowflower : white she-cat with amber eyes

≻ Sandblaze : pale gold she-cat with amber eyes _Apprentice: Mintpaw_

≻ Dawnflight : light ginger she-cat with green eyes _Apprentice: Littlepaw_

≻ Gannetfur : black and white tom with green eyes

≻ Loonfeather : black and white she-cat with amber eyes

≻ Bluefeather : long-haired blue-grey she-cat with amber eyes

≻ Heroncloud : long-haired blue-grey she-cat with blue eyes

≻ Rockclaw : dark grey tom with green eyes

**Apprentices**

≻ Fishpaw : silver tabby tom with amber eyes

≻ Littlepaw : light grey tom with amber eyes

≻ Mintpaw : light grey she-cat with amber eyes

≻ Hailpaw : white tom with amber eyes

≻ Eggpaw : white tom with grey stripes and amber eyes

≻ Swanpaw : pure white she-cat with amber eyes

**Elders**

≻ Stormfang : dark grey tom with amber eyes

**Edit: For anyone reading after the edit, Albatrossfur has been changed to Gannetfur (similar bird, sounds less awkward).**


	2. Part 2: Trial

There was not much one could do when sitting in a cave under guard day and night, so Frog resigned himself to sleeping and remembering the events of his miserable life. It did very little, if anything, to improve the mood of depression that hung like a cloud in his prison, but at least it helped to pass the time.

Judging from the claw marks on the wall, a careful tally of each sunhigh of his captivity, nearly a moon had passed since his capture. His memories of the outside world were beginning to fade, the only times they allowed him to leave his prison the days when Sleetstar called a meeting by the big rock. The customs of the Clan were foreign to the tabby, but at least they gave him a chance to stretch his legs.

Company was hard to come by but, as he always had, Frog found his own company best. He rarely spoke to the Clan cats, usually only muttering his thanks when they came in to drop off a small piece of prey. The taste of fish was slowly beginning to grow on him and he didn't mind eating alone. If anyone did stay to share his meal, it was either Eggpaw or Rainberry, the tom who saved him from the jeering crowd.

Rainberry referred to himself as a 'medicine cat'. The term was completely lost on Frog, but he assumed that the title brought with it an authority almost equal to Sleetstar's. From what he'd gathered, there was another title, belonging to a snooty grey she-cat with a white belly and paws, that also held importance. Eggpaw referred to her as the 'deputy'.

The strange names were also explained to the tabby after he pointed out to Eggpaw that eggs didn't physically have paws. This earned a purr of amusement from the white and grey tom and prompted him to spend the better part of the morning explaining the differences between warriors, apprentices and kits, while Frog puzzled over the fact that a name could be changed so many times in one lifetime.

He learned that there were two Clans, one living by the sea and one on the moors he'd passed on his journey. The rigid structure was common to both and they practiced similar rituals, meeting every full moon to discuss how their respective Clans faired. Sometimes, they would battle over the borders separating them, arguing over the prey and herbs that seemed to almost dictate their lives.

To Frog, this all seemed very excessive. Where he came from, everyone fended for themselves, sometimes banding together in rag-tag groups of loners to battle over a certain piece of territory before moving on to the next best piece of land in the city. Having nearly non-existant fighting and hunting skills, Frog avoided these bands, surprised that he'd survived this long. Perhaps he was just lucky when it came to survival.

On one particularly cold morning, Frog began to doubt that fact.

The day began as all the others had, the tabby waking to the sounds of a bustling camp. The barked list of names that came with dawn echoed about the cave and Frog stayed curled up on his prison floor, listening to the now familiar event.

His fur stood on end when he heard a single, small word, hardly a name at all.

Eggpaw appeared at the entrance of his cave, the grim look on his face confirming Frog's suspicions. If whatever was going on could make the apprentice sombre, the tabby's luck had run out.

The prisoner was marched out of his den, eyes widening as he took in the main cave. Two cats lay on the ground before the great rock, their bodies mangled almost beyond recognition. One had a pelt the colour of fire; the other as black as night. The scent still lingering on their fur was one of smoke.

"Who are they?" Sleetstar demanded, flicking his tail towards the two very dead cats. Frog stared at the bodies, not able to form coherent thoughts.

"Sleetstar asked you a question," said a black and white tom, unsheathing his claws. "Answer him, or you'll be next."

The tabby looked around at the assembled cats, their eyes narrowing as they met his. He realized that the two bodies belonged to loners, probably ones unlucky enough to cross the border, and that SeaClan believed he was afiliated with them.

"I don't know," he replied, voice shaking. "I've never seen them before."

The black and white tom's claws were at his throat immediately and Frog squealed in protest. Across the cave, Hailpaw and Fishpaw snorted.

"Look, Swanpaw," they teased, nudging the white apprentice. "You're strong enough to take down minnowhearts." The white she-cat shot them a murderous glare before turning to Frog and softening her gaze. He felt his heart leap at the worry in her eyes, hoping against all hope that the she-cat would believe him. She'd been the one to capture him; surely, she would be the one to save him, too?

The steel that entered her amber eyes as she turned away caused his heart to plummet into the depths of his stomach.

"You better not be lying to me, you hear?" Sleetstar roared. Frog ripped his eyes away from Swanpaw, cowering before the dominance of SeaClan's leader.

"Tell him the truth," urged Honeypool.

Frog found himself speechless. These mutilated loners were complete strangers to him, from a Twolegplace much different than his own. The ashy smell of smoke still clinging to their fur was dirtier, more salty than the one he knew. Yet, the Clan wanted to hear a confession, something that would prove him guilty and give an excuse to be rid of his miserable existence.

Frog was many things. A coward, for one. A pathetic excuse of a cat, too. But, if there was one thing the tom wasn't, it was a liar.

"I'm telling the truth!" he hissed in a moment of frustration.

Sleetstar pinned him to the ground, amber eyes boring into him. "I guess StarClan will be the one to judge you," the leader spat.

Frog found himself being dragged out of the main cave by the scruff, body racked with waves of fear. The rock beneath him scraped at his skin, drawing blood as they pulled him along the pebbles of the beach. The smell of salt grew stronger and the tom shivered as the cold sea air hit him.

"I don't know them, I swear!" he cried. "I'm not from their territory, I've never met those loners!"

The deadly procession paid no mind to his cries. Frantically, the tom searched for Eggpaw, for Rainberry, for Swanpaw - surely, she knew the scent of the smoke on the loners didn't match up with his own.

"Why won't you believe me?!"

Sleetstar halted, his piercing gaze settling on Frog. Disgusted, he turned away, raising his voice so that it could be heard above the crashing of the waves. "It is time SeaClan took control of their territory. Too long has it been trespassed, stolen from and fed off of by the likes of this coward, nothing more than a leech."

He lowered his voice, looking down upon the frightened tabby as he growled, "There's only one thing to do with a leech, and that's to remove it."

"Trial by water!" came a call from the assembled crowd. Frog's eyes widened as he tried to understand the words, which rose up into the air, a ritualistic chant repeated over and over as more cats joined in.

Soon, all of SeaClan cried those three words. He searched the crowd for a shred of mercy, finding Eggpaw's eyes averted and Swanpaw's stricken face, but nothing to save him.

They pushed him towards the water, which roared like a giant beast, as if sensing the kill it would soon make. He felt it splashing up around him, sucking at his fur and chilling him to the bone. Once it caught hold of him, there would be no escape.

"SeaClan, to the Sunset Cliffs!" Sleetstar suddenly commanded and the crowd melted away, moving like water over the rocky beach. Frog moved after them but was stopped by Gannetfur, who pressed his claws to Frog's throat. The warrior bared his teeth in a terrifying grin and pushed, sending Frog backwards towards the sea. He shook his head, pleading with his eyes, but Gannetfur continued to move, stopping only once they were in view of the cliff where SeaClan had gathered.

With a sneer, the tom pushed the tabby forward, shrinking back into the shadows of the cliff. The water came up higher now, lapping at the cuts on Frog's pads and causing them to sting. He stepped forward shakily, not quite certain what he was to do.

By the time he realized he was not alone, it was almost too late.

He leaped back, staring at the beast rising out of the water before him. It was enormous, twenty times the size of any cat he'd ever seen, and covered in a thick, brown skin. Its black, beady eyes peered at him from behind an elongated nose. It opened its jaws, spraying Frog with sticky saliva as it gave off a deafening roar.

The tabby froze in terror, eyes glued to the fleshy pink of the creature's open mouth. A scream from atop the cliff brought him to his senses and he tored himself away, scrambling over the rocks to get as far away from the beast as possible.

The creature crashed back onto the rocks with a force that would have crushed the tom had he not moved. It shook its head this way and that, searching him out, catching sight of his tabby pelt amongst the grey of the rocks easily.

The cat was sent flying with one swat of the creature's fin, landing on his side. He could feel the stones beneath him piercing his skin and he clambered to his paws. Blood poured out of his side and into the water below, which now rose up to his belly. Turning to face the behemoth, he found it looming above him again.

Thousands of pounds of blubber came crashing down, hitting the water with a slap and sending up a spray. Frog yowled, his tail caught beneath the creature's weight. It looked him right in the eye and let off another fearsome roar, its breath stinking of fish. The tom trembled as he stared certain death in the face.

The water rose even higher and Frog struggled to keep his head above it. He heard the taunts and jeers coming from the cliff above, someone yelling that true frogs could swim.

That, however, was not something that this Frog could do.

The beast lifted itself up again in preparation for another assault and the tom pulled his tail free, paws sliding on the slippery surface of the now submerged beach. He felt the wind ruffling his fur as the creature brought its weight down once more and the spray of the sea as it splashed over him, but he was far enough away to escape its clutches.

All fear forgotten as the instinct of self-preservation took over, Frog moved towards the cliff. It was his only chance at survival, if there was any at all. Cats could at least be reasoned with; this beast was set on one thing only.

Layer upon layer of rock loomed over him, crags and crevices just visible from where Frog stood. If he could just reach that crevice, he would escape from the beast and his unmistakeable fate.

The tom leaped up, water-logged fur weighing him down, and his claws scratched at the bottom of the outcropping before he fell back into the sea. He gasped for air, coughing up the salty water. Ignoring the weariness in his bones and the stinging of his injuries, he bunched his muscles beneath him in preparation for another jump.

Too late, he realized the creature was right behind him. He felt himself being lifted up, a cry escaping his throat as it grabbed him by the tail and threw him against the cliff face. The tabby hit it with a crack, the air leaving his body all at once.

Then, he was falling, black at the edges of his consciousness. With his last ounce of strength, he reached out with his claws and managed to find a foothold in the cliff.

The creature waited just below him, looking up at his dangling form. In the moment it leaped up from the sea, Frog hauled himself into the tiny crevice, making himself as small as possible.

Pain shot through him like a thousand bee stings and the darkness finally overwhelmed him. Somewhere in the distance was the sound of splashing water.

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**A/N: There's part 2! If you enjoyed it, or have a spare moment, please let me know what you liked or what could be changed. Every little comment helps me with my writing :)**

**\- Spirit**


	3. Part 3: Verdict

The light was painful, more so than ever before. Blinking his eyes open, Frog wondered if the afterlife looked similar to the world of the living. The one he looked at now, a little hazy at the edges, reminded him of the prisoner den at the SeaClan camp.

"Rainberry, he's awake! He's awake!"

The tabby started, soft moss shifting beneath him. He could have sworn he heard Eggpaw's voice, as energetic as ever. He moved his head too quickly in his search for the words' source and felt it begin to pound, the fog before his eyes growing darker.

"Eggpaw, not so loud!" another voice hissed and Rainberry suddenly appeared before Frog. Despite the aggravated tone of voice he directed at the over-excited apprentice, his eyes glimmered happily.

"How long have I been here?" Frog croaked, looking about Rainberry's den. It smelled sharp, tangy and sweet all at the same time, confusing his senses.

"Nearly a half moon," the tom replied. "I've been giving you poppy seeds to keep you asleep. Didn't want you walking around with those broken ribs of yours until they'd had time to heal." He flicked his blue tail at Frog's left side, where the fur was a mess of kinks and clumps.

"Broken ribs?" Frog muttered. The last thing he remembered before waking up was...

He looked up at Rainberry in pure astonishment. "I'm alive?" The medicine cat snorted before turning back to his herb storage.

"You were brilliant!" Eggpaw said, practically bouncing off the walls of the den. "The whole Clan's been talking about it! Sleetstar even mentioned your battle with the seal at the last Gathering and MoorClan wouldn't believe him, even though the whole Clan agreed they'd seen it with their own eyes." His amber eyes shone, striped sides heaving as he ran out of breath.

Frog remained silent, unsure of what to say. All he remembered of his ordeal with the creature - a seal, Eggpaw called it - was the fear and pain. The wounds from his battle still stung, especially when Rainberry's gentle paws rubbed herbs into them. He ached all over, every movement painful.

When the medicine cat finished, the tabby's messy pelt was covered with poultices, pastes and cobwebs. Aside from the broken ribs, he'd also wrenched a claw while hanging on to the cliff for dear life and nearly lost an eye when falling unconscious, which explained the fog. Rainberry assured him that, with enough celandine and rest, Frog's eyes would be back to as normal as possible.

"You were lucky to survive that trial," Rainberry said. "StarClan must have been watching over you." Frog nodded hesitantly, unsure of whether he believed in StarClan or not. He preferred to think that his luck had not yet run out.

The medicine cat watched him sadly. "You're alive, which proves your innocence, and I've done all I can to heal you, but there are some things I cannot do. It will take some getting used to." The tom motioned for Frog to stand with a flick of his tail.

The comfort of the moss nest fell away as the tabby did so and he found it hard to stand. Attributing it to his tired muscles and numerous injuries, Frog looked at Rainberry skeptically and stepped forward to prove he was fine. The movement caused him to sway and he barely caught himself from tumbling over. Eggpaw rushed over to help, pushing him back upright.

All Frog could do was stare at the place where his tail had once been. Layers of herbs and cobwebs covered the stump, helping it heal. The back half of his body felt lighter but, inside, the heaviness of loss weighed him down. He'd never realized a tail could be so important.

Taking another shaky step forward, he wobbled on his paws, unused to the feeling of misbalance. Eggpaw watched him with wide eyes and Frog tried to make the best of his situation, giving the apprentice a reassuring look. Spotting a spider on the floor of the den, he attempted to jump onto it.

The tabby collapsed in a heap on the floor, the landing much harder to go through with than he'd anticipated. He growled deep in his throat, frustrated and embarrassed by the display.

A gasp sounded from the entrance of the medicine den and Frog turned to see two amber eyes staring at him. The same stricken look graced her features, a mirror reflection of the one from the day of his trial. He grimaced, turning away from the she-cat.

Swanpaw disappeared into the medicine storage with Rainberry while Eggpaw helped Frog to his paws, glancing nervously between the tom and the she-cat. The injured tabby refused to meet his eyes, sure the apprentice could feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off of him.

"She's been in here everyday," Eggpaw murmured. Frog ignored the apprentice, shuffling over to the bed of moss and collapsing in it. To his annoyance, the white and grey tom followed.

"She feels guilty," he continued.

"I thought all SeaClan cats knew what a trial by water was?" Frog replied.

Eggpaw nodded. "It's a ritual from long ago. In the old days, it was believed cats needed to be sacrificed to the sea for the Clan to avoid StarClan's displeasure. Now, we use it as judgment."

The tabby snorted. "Seems unfair to me. I don't need her pity - or yours."

The apprentice flinched. "There was nothing either of us could do to stop it. We're only apprentices." Frog flicked his ear in dismissal, unwilling to believe the tom.

"You really think I could stand up to Sleetstar? To Gannetfur?" Eggpaw pressed on, curling his tail over his paws. The tabby watched its twitching tip, the acute feeling of loss growing stronger.

He sighed, knowing Eggpaw spoke the truth. Even if the two apprentices had said something, the rest of the Clan was bent on going through with the trial. Rainberry was right; he was lucky to be alive.

Fur brushed against him as the apprentice settled down beside his nest. Grudgingly, Frog shifted over to make room for him. Though all he wanted was to mourn the loss of his tail and wonder about what this meant for his future, the tabby found some comfort in Eggpaw's company. They were silent, listening to the rustling of herbs and the soft murmuring of Swanpaw and Rainberry.

"We've been giving her poppy seeds and thyme, but every time she looks at you she feels sick again," the striped tom said quietly.

"Why?"

Eggpaw shifted uncomfortably. "The trial... You're the only one to survive it, or any encounter with a seal."

"And that makes her feel guilty?"

"Just brings back painful memories."

Rainberry and Swanpaw emerged from the medicine storage before Frog had a chance to ask further questions. Eggpaw said his goodbyes, rushing out of the den at the sound of his mentor's voice, leaving the tabby to puzzle over what a strong, beautiful she-cat like Swanpaw could possibly hide.

A peculiar feeling rose into his chest as he searched her pristine coat for signs of her past, but the only thing to be found was a small nick in her left ear. Putting the thoughts aside, Frog settled down to a night of dreams full of splashes, seals and swans.

* * *

Another half moon passed before Frog felt he was well enough to leave the medicine den. Feeling especially clumsy without his tail, he refused to enter the main cave; it would only lead to embarrassment. The only cats who came to visit were Eggpaw and Honeypool, who apologized sincerely for her disbelief. He accepted her apology, but remained wary of her presence.

He did not see Swanpaw in the medicine den again, but watched Rainberry taking herbs to the apprentice den often. Not having bothered to ask Eggpaw about it, her past remained a mystery, and the apprentice did not offer further explanation.

A moon after the trial, Rainberry decided it was time for Frog to start living again. The tabby refused at first, but gave in when the medicine cat mentioned the sunlight streaming in to the main cave. Padding over to the den entrance as gracefully as he could, Frog settled in a pool of it, realizing just how much he missed its warmth.

Basking in it, he attempted to ignore the stares of the SeaClan cats. Some were wondrous, others joyful, and still others hostile. Murmurs rose up, words talked behind his back, but the tabby gave them no notice until he heard the voice of Sleetstar.

"StarClan has judged him accordingly," he said. "Perhaps he should be asked to join the Clan."

Turning, Frog caught sight of the leader, who spoke to a pretty silver she-cat. She nodded, shifting her clear green gaze to the tabby. Sleetstar's eyes followed.

"You have proven your worth and survived your trial. Will you stay here and join SeaClan?" Sleetstar asked, padding over to the tom. Frog, out of respect for the leader, attempted to sit up, but the movement proved to be difficult. He lay back down with an awkward thump.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked. From his perch, he could see the water that almost took his life and its pounding reminded him of the harsh and unrelenting nature of SeaClan.

Sleetstar did not seem surprised by the question. "StarClan has proved your innocence and you are no longer our prisoner. The decision is yours."

The tabby nodded. The idea of living here never once crossed his mind while he lay in the medicine den. All of his thoughts were focused on the past rather than the future.

If he stayed, he would be subject to all of these ridiculous social structures - leaders who believed the judgment of this StarClan over their own, deputies who barked orders in the early hours of dawn, warriors who called for the deaths of others and apprentices who were powerless to stop them. They would expect him to cooperate with the cats who nearly caused his death, learning how to hunt and fight alongside them. Learning to hunt and fight without a tail, from the very basics.

But, the Clan provided him shelter and food in return for his attempt at training, and a family of sorts. Frog pictured Eggpaw, imagining the excitement in his eyes if he decided to stay, and Rainberry, who took care of him as if he were one of their own. Honeypool, who admitted her wrongs and believed that others would too, given the chance.

He thought about the world he came from: a smokey, concrete mess where every cat fended for themselves. He thought about the hundreds of times he slept out in the rain, all of the bugs he ate to keep himself alive, the loners who, though related by blood, chased him off and told him he didn't belong.

Looking into the cave, where the cats of SeaClan milled about, Frog realized that, despite their harsh nature, they still offered him a place where belonging was a possibility. A place where his past could disappear and a brighter future lay waiting. He was tired of running, and tired of being afraid.

Frog turned his green eyes to Sleetstar's. "Yes, I will join SeaClan."

To the tom's surprise, Sleetstar's eyes lit up. Before Frog could stop him, the leader stood atop the big rock, calling the Clan to a meeting. The tabby lifted himself to his paws, swaying slightly, and padded over to the gathered cats cautiously, taking a seat beside Eggpaw.

"SeaClan, today we welcome a new member into our midst. We believed him to be guilty, but our trial has proven otherwise. Perhaps it was StarClan guiding his paws - _perhaps it was just sheer dumb luck,_ Frog thought - in order to show our Clan that he was worthy of life and, above all, a life with us."

Sleetstar's gaze fell upon Frog. "You will train alongside our apprentices, with Poolheart as your mentor. We welcome you as a member of our Clan." The silver she-cat Sleetstar spoke to earlier stepped forward, moving to stand beside Frog.

"Poolheart, you are patient and kind, and it is my hope that, under your instruction, Frog will overcome his injuries and become a full warrior of SeaClan." The tabby looked up at his new mentor and she touched her nose to his. He nodded respectfully, unsure of what to do.

A kind light filled her eyes as she spoke. "We will start training once you are feeling well. Until then, rest and gather your strengths. We have a lot of work to do." She moved, making way for the others to come congratulate him.

The mill of cats seemed endless, their words blending together. They flicked their tails over his flanks, nodded their good wishes, even licked his ears and nose. Eggpaw's excitement, evident in the way he pushed his nose into Frog's chest, nearly toppled the newly named apprentice over.

Only two cats did not approach him: Gannetfur and Swanpaw. The former's eyes narrowed, two glowing slits in a dark corner of the cave, while the she-cat averted her gaze. Even from where he sat, Frog could see her small frame trembling.

The cue finally drew to a close and Frog made his way back to the medicine den, exhausted by the event. He wondered whether he had made the right decision; really, what choice did a tail-less tom have?

Turning to look around the main cave one more time, as if searching for an answer, he caught sight of Swanpaw's amber eyes. This time, she did not look away, only twitched her whiskers sadly. Then, she moved into the apprentice den, disappearing from view just as she had that first night.

* * *

Poolheart stayed true to her word and, as soon as Frog felt himself ready, their training commenced. He marvelled at her patience, the way she explained each and every technique over and over until he finally understood them. Training sessions with Poolheart became enjoyable once Frog realized where his paws stood.

The practice of these theorized techniques did not come so quickly. Without a tail, he needed to be extra careful when so much as traversing the rocky terrain of the Clan's territory, let alone jumping or pouncing. This made descending the rocky cliffs difficult.

Yet, slowly, Frog figured out his own techniques, taking the techniques explained by Poolheart and putting his own twists on them. Instead of leaping from ledge to ledge, he slithered off their edges, dropping onto the ones below. His increasingly better aim made up for his clumsy landings, even earning him a scrawny mouse when out on hunting patrol.

Despite his clear disadvantage, the other apprentices remained merciless during battle training. Only Eggpaw gave him some slack, but Frog still lost to him every time. As a result, Frog found himself in the medicine den most nights, either for herbs to ease the stinging of a cut earned during training or for words of comfort from Rainberry. He felt frustrated, losing to cats almost a season-cycle younger than he, but the medicine cat assured him of his progress.

Frog doubted this. The only apprentice currently worse than him was the one who hadn't been showing up.

It was dark out when Frog overheard a hushed conversation not meant for his ears. Returning to the SeaClan camp after an especially trying battle session, his paws aching, he suddenly heard the sharp, raspy whiskers of two she-cats.

"Does she really think she can ignore her duties, living off of poppy seeds?" one said.

"It's only been nine moons," the other said softly and Frog identified the voice as his mentor's.

"It's absolutely ridiculous!" the other she-cat hissed.

"She blames herself for Splashpaw's death, you know that. She was only a kit when it happened, but the seal must have triggered her memories. You know how close the two of them were." There was a pause, during which the other cat's tail brushed over the ground in restless strokes.

"Just give her time to come to terms with it, she'll be back to training soon, Honeypool," Poolheart continued.

"She's not the only one who's lost someone," Honeypool suddenly snapped. "That's the life of a Clan cat. You hunt for it, you fight for it, you die for it if need be. My mentor was killed by MoorClan warriors and I didn't sit around moping!"

A deafening silence followed. Then, a quiet sob.

"Splashpaw was too young," came Poolheart's quiet whisper.

Honeypool sighed. "I'm sorry, I've been insensitive. Having one of your kits taken so suddenly... I can't imagine the pain you felt. You had every right to drop everything and mourn her loss."

"But I didn't."

"By that point, you already knew what it was to live the harsh life of a SeaClan cat," Honeypool said. "Swanpaw doesn't and, if this continues, she never will."

Frog thought of the small white she-cat he saw in the apprentice den every night, usually curled up in her nest. Sometimes, he would bring her freshkill, but she never ate it, staring at it with sad eyes instead. For a moon, Frog watched her do it, curiosity growing as he wondered why.

"She's been leeching off of Rainberry's stores for the past two moons." Honeypool's voice was heavy, resigned. "There's only one thing to do with a leech..."

Frog turned away before she finished, Sleetstar's words echoing in his head.


	4. Part 4: Rescue

The following night, Frog lay awake in his nest, the snores of his denmates rising up around him. Another trying day, but his mind refused to rest even though his body ached. His eyes stared at the stone walls of the den, focusing on their blankness, and he willed his thoughts to be the same.

Then, his eyes shifted to the bright shape of Swanpaw and his mind began to race all over again, curiosity getting the better of him. The conversation he'd overheard the previous night was still fresh in his mind and he found it hard to believe that the Clan would get rid of one of their own.

Yet, Sleetstar's words continued to haunt him. He'd asked Rainberry about the saying, wondering where it came from, to learn that the Clan took these 'leeches' very seriously. Eggpaw added that SeaClan's history revolved around sacrifice, usually of the weaker cats, to the seals in order to gain the favour of their ancestors.

Frog didn't want to believe it. How could anyone remove a member of their _family_? It was backwards, twisted, messed up.

But, his own memories of home did little to support the opposite. He remembered being weak, unwanted by the other loners of his Twolegplace, told to leave because he didn't belong. It filled him with anger just to think of it and he closed his eyes, willing the thoughts to go away.

They were replaced with Swanpaw once more. Swanpaw who lay in her nest all day, too weak to move, haunted by a past Frog knew little about. Others discussed her fate behind her back, leaving her alone to battle this inner demon. They refused to help, to try and change her fate.

Something like pity welled up inside Frog. This weak, lonely she-cat reminded him of someone he'd once known very well, someone who wished to be rescued, to be helped, to be loved. No one ever came to his aid.

Rising to his paws, mind made up, he carefully manouevred around the other sleeping apprentices, moving as silently as he could. The soft white fur rose and fell, shifting in its nest as he came closer.

_What are you doing, fishbrain?_ the tom thought to himself, but reached out a paw all the same.

White flashed through the air before him and Frog jumped back, startled. Amber eyes met his and he held his breath, waiting for the she-cat's next move. She remained still and the two stared at each other.

"I couldn't sleep," Frog finally said. She didn't reply, but didn't avert her gaze either.

The tabby settled down beside her nest, keeping his eyes locked with hers. They showed a weariness, lids half-closed from exhaustion. It looked like she hadn't slept in days.

He quickly glanced over her body, the tangled clumps of fur doing little to hide how thin she'd become. Her ribs stuck out, making her already small form seem even smaller, as if she were just a shred of her former self.

"Are you feeling better?"

Swanpaw blinked her big eyes at him and the tom felt his heart begin to thud in his chest, a fluttering in his stomach making him feel queasy. The anxiety grew as he realized his self-appointed task might be much harder than he expected.

"Do the herbs help?"

Nothing. Sighing, he decided to take a different approach.

"Since you're not going to sleep anyway, do you mind if I talk about my... past?"

She remained silent, but a flick of her ear told Frog that she would listen.

Taking a deep breath, he began his tale. Having nothing planned, he started from the beginning, from the mother who left him out on the street, to the group of loners who took him in, through the battles he avoided and the hiding spots he still remembered, up to the moment when she caught him on the border.

Swanpaw's ears swivelled as he talked, making sure to keep his voice low so as not to wake the other apprentices. She reacted little, closing her eyes halfway through as if the story were lulling her to sleep.

But, when Frog finished, the amber gaze shone up at him once more. He thought he saw a slight glimmer in it, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by blankness.

"It's not a very good story, I know. All of the characters no longer exist," Frog said. She twitched her whiskers sadly in reply, the biggest reaction he'd gotten from her all night, and he twitched his own in return.

"Do the herbs help?" he tried again, hoping for an answer this time.

The she-cat gave a slight shake of her head.

"Does freshkill?"

An ear flicked in dismissal.

"How about this?"

A brief moment of confusion as she struggled to understand what he meant. Then, Frog saw the ghost of a smile flit across her face.

* * *

Sleep became an uncommon treat for Frog after that night. Though both physical and mental exhaustion plagued him the following day, the knowledge that helping Swanpaw was possible made his tired state worth the trouble.

Poolheart scolded him for his lack of care and noisiness while they hunted. Boulderclaw watched him closely during battle training, and admonished him for his carelessness and lack of aim. Even Rainberry, who normally offered words of comfort, commented crossly on Frog's new cuts and scratches.

Yet, Frog spent that night, and the next, and the next, keeping Swanpaw company. Most nights, he told her stories or asked her small questions. Slowly, she began to speak, her one syllable answers soft, voice cracking from disuse. Sometimes, they sat in silence, listening to the crashing waves. He always fell asleep not long before dawn, while she thrashed about in her nest, exhaustion finally pulling her under.

Frog came to look forward to the nights with Swanpaw, the weariness of the day melting away when he entered the apprentice den. He visited her during the day, too, bringing freshkill that she slowly started to eat - just a bite at first, then more than one, until she was eating whole fish and mice.

Gannetfur noticed the change in her first. Other than Frog, Rainberry and Eggpaw, who tried to cheer his littermate up with small gifts of pebbles or shells he collected on the beach, Gannetfur was the only other cat in the Clan who visited Swanpaw; to everyone else, she had become virtually invisible. Like Frog, he brought her freshkill, often sitting nearby and impatiently waiting for her to eat, or else boasting of the MoorClan patrol he fought off or the fish he managed to catch.

Swanpaw rarely said anything to Gannetfur, but she ate the freshkill he brought her. Frog watched these scenes from a distance, wondering why his chest ached and his teeth clenched at the sight. He tried to pay it no mind, telling himself that interacting with her Clanmates was good for Swanpaw.

Believing this would bring her back into Clan life, he first coaxed her out of the apprentice den to visit the nursery, where Snowflower greeted her warmly and told Swanpaw of her soon-to-come half-siblings. He got her to visit Stormfang in the elders' den, where she listened to his stories while taking care of his ticks. Some days, he could even get her to sit in the main cave while the Clan shared tongues, drawing her into conversations with her Clanmates.

A moon later, Swanpaw approached Honeypool, her mentor, without his help. Frog watched from afar as the two talked, but let the she-cat fight her own battle. The weak, lost she-cat of the past nights vanished before his eyes, replaced by one who was strong, fierce, beautiful.

"How'd you do it?" The voice came from behind him and, startled, Frog turned to face Gannetfur.

"What do you mean?" he asked, shocked by how steady his voice sounded. The tom made him uneasy, though he no longer trembled under his hostile glares.

Gannetfur narrowed his eyes. "She never talked to me, is all."

Frog blinked, feeling the familiar ache in his chest forming. "Maybe you should try being more patient with her, then." The black and white tom grimaced, but said nothing more.

That night, just as the sun was setting, Swanpaw asked if Frog would mind going for a walk with her. Surprised, the tom happily accepted. She hadn't been out of the camp for nearly two moons now.

The light turned the gray of the cliffs a muted yellow, the jagged beach below a vivid orange and the sea itself a flickering red, as if the whole world were on fire. They walked side by side, admiring the view but talking little. Every once in a while, Swanpaw gave off a soft hiss of pain as the pebbles underfoot dug into her soft pads; Frog's own were hard and calloused from hunting and training.

When they reached the Sunset Cliffs, she stopped, sitting down on the heated rock. Silently, she stared down at the rocky beach with an emotionless gaze. Uneasy, Frog settled beside her.

The wind played with their fur, swirling around them and made their whiskers sway. Swanpaw closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and Frog watched, a purr rising in his chest. After moons of seeing her closed off from the world and alone, the sight of her enjoying something as simple as the smell of the sea made his heart leap.

They watched the sun move closer to the edge of the earth, slowly disappearing below the waves. Its light made the she-cat's fur shimmer and her eyes glow with life, the emotionless amber replaced by a hungry fire.

She sighed then and began to speak.

"Her name was Splashpaw. She was smart, funny, enthusiastic... The littermate of Mintfang, Littlefrost and Fishpelt. We were the best of friends." Her voice cracked slightly, but she took a deep breath and continued.

"We used to play in the nursery together, always coming up with plans that got us into trouble. When she became an apprentice, I was only four moons old, and I begged her to sneak me out of the camp, just once, so I could see the sea. For some reason, I was desperate.

"One morning, we got our chance, and snuck out of camp through the main entrance. The guards on guard duty that day were too busy paying attention to each other than to their assignment. We chased each other over the Jagged Beach and Splashpaw spotted a big boulder up ahead. We decided to race there and back to the camp entrance; that way, no one would notice we were gone.

"She was quicker than me, of course, and got to the boulder before I did. Only, it wasn't a boulder." Swanpaw closed her eyes, clenching her teeth, but a sob escaped her all the same. Frog waited, unmoving, knowing what happened next but wanting her to say it all the same.

"The seal killed her with a single movement and her broken body was washed out to sea. They found me at sunhigh, still crying out her name."

Overcome with grief, Swanpaw lowered herself to the ground, sad eyes staring out across the water, as if searching for her lost friend. Without hesitation, Frog moved to her side, his fur brushing against her own. He placed his head over hers, giving her ear a soft lick of comfort.

"It was all my fault. I should have died in her place." The words were soft, carried off by the wind immediately, but the tom heard them all the same.

"Maybe it was an accident, or fate, or StarClan's wishes," he said quietly. "Besides, if you died that day, who would have caught me on the border?"

She snorted. "You remind me of her, sometimes."

"And why is that?"

"You're both... different. You don't seem to belong, but you do. I don't know anyone else who would stay up all night just to keep me company. She did the same when I had nightmares in the nursery." The tom purred, imagining two she-kits huddling in a bed of moss, telling each other stories through the night.

"Thank you," Swanpaw said suddenly. Frog felt her cold nose on his cheek, her soft tongue on his whiskers, and he felt his pelt burn beneath her touch. His heart pounded in his chest so loudly he was sure she could hear it but, somehow, he didn't care. They were past that, their nights spent together giving them an intimacy not even Frog understood.

The one thing he did understand, and wanted Swanpaw to know, he said aloud.

"I'd do anything for you."

* * *

Swanpaw's return to her apprentice duties put SeaClan in a celebratory mood. With four apprentices in training, three newly named warriors and an expecting queen in the nursery, the Clan's prospects brightened. The freshkill pile remained stocked night after night and Rainberry's medicine storage nearly overflowed with herbs; in Frog's mind, there wasn't much the Clan couldn't celebrate.

Then, news came from the border.

Sandblaze streaked into the camp, a distressed looking Mintfang behind her, yowling at the top of her lungs, "The loners are attacking the border!" Her eyes were crazed and her pale gold fur splotched with the red of blood.

A wave passed through the assembled cats, one of fear and anger. Frog felt himself tremble at the prospect of battle, remembering the ones he fought against loners earlier in his life. The battle techniques Poolheart taught him seemed to slip from his mind at the very thought of a fight.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather before the Speaking Rock!" Sleetstar called. "Mintfang has informed me that there is a company of fifteen loners on the border, advancing quickly. We'll find strength in numbers, everyone battling except for Heroncloud, Bluefeather and Fishpelt, who will stay behind to guard camp."

Frog wanted to raise his voice in protest, offer to stay behind instead, but SeaClan's leader leaped from the rock before the tabby could speak. Thundering paws followed Sleetstar, a white, grey and blue river moving through the cave.

Frog hesitated for a moment before joining it, the cowardliness he'd once known returning to him. For moons, this feeling of being afraid had disappeared and only now did he feel its impact once more. Fishpelt's eyes narrowed, noticing his uncertainty, and the cold glare reminded Frog of his first days with the Clan when he was a wanderer, a prisoner, a traitor.

He raced headlong over the rock of SeaClan's territory, towards the Twolegplace border. Beside him, Swanpaw kept pace, her fur brushing against his own. On his other side, Eggpaw's determined expression helped to calm the tabby and he donned his own.

It faltered when he noticed Gannetfur, his gaze untrusting and stiff. The warrior bared his teeth when their eyes met, mouthing words that made Frog's heart race. _Mouse-heart, coward, traitor._

The trespassing loners caught sight of SeaClan then and the tabby tore his eyes away from the warrior. His heart rose into his mouth, eyes widening at the sight of the enemy, and he felt himself slowing down, fear making his paws falter. The wall of teeth and claws made him want to turn tail, resort to the one technique Poolheart never mentioned during training but one he knew all too well: flight.

It happened so quickly, Frog barely had time to unsheath his claws before he found himself duelling a loner twice his size. He felt himself bristle in terror, the huge mass of black fur before him rising up to crush him. Its sharp claws glinted and Frog dodged them clumsily. He desperately tried to remember something, anything, Poolheart taught him in practice, but his mind remained blank.

The loner's next blow caught him on the shouler and Frog buckled beneath the weight of it's paw. He felt the tell-tale shivers coming up his spine, the ones that immobilized him and reduced him to nothing more than a useless scrap of fur.

He felt a weight drop onto him, the body of the black tom pushing him into the ground.

His claws dug into Frog's shoulders, disappearing into the flesh and drawing blood. Unable to move, the tabby yowled in pain, heart pounding, knowing this to be the end. His thoughts told him to give up, to surrender, but something deeper within him rejected them.

A flash of white in the corner of his eye reminded him of why he needed to fight back.

Bunching his muscles beneath him, it took all of his strength to lift himself up in the air, shifting the giant loner off of him. With most of the weight no longer on his body, Frog spurred himself forward, kicking out his back legs and making contact with the loner's side. It hissed, already back on its paws, but this time the tabby turned to face it.

The fear continued to hammer away at him, reducing bravery to nothing but a shred. Yet, when the loner lunged once more, the will to live reared up inside of Frog and he reared up with it, leaping over the tom's form and dragging his claws along its back.

Landing shakily on the other side, he heard the loner yowl in pain, but the tabby's attention were now focused on a new cat. Before him stood a small brown she-cat, about his own age, fur matted and nose criss-crossed with scars. She looked somewhat helpless, a lost look in her eyes, and Frog hesitated for just a moment, recognizing it as a mirror of his own.

He waited too long and her claws tore at his ears. Hissing, Frog parried her blows, careful to keep his balance as the she-cat pushed him back. In an effort to gain some ground, he lunged for her. She disappeared faster than he could blink, his unsheathed claws grasping at thin air.

Then, a searing pain ran through him as claws raked across his side. Howling, Frog turned to face the she-cat but, once again, she was gone.

He suddenly felt a weight on his back, claws digging into his shoulders, and he twisted, hoping to knock her to the side. She held on tightly, jumping at the last moment, and landed over top of Frog, the white of his belly exposed to her. He realized he'd made a fatal mistake.

Black spots danced in front of his eyes, the pain as she scored his underside more intense than anything he'd ever felt before. The white fur on his belly turned a sickly red, the metallic scent rising to his nose as he struggled to throw her off.

The she-cat disappeared suddenly, replaced by the familiar face of Poolheart. Brown fur stuck out from between her fangs, her nose stained red with blood.

"Stick to the perimeter, we don't want to lose anyone if we can help it," she said before rushing off into the thick of the battle. Frog lay on the ground for a while more before rising carefully to his paws and moving awkwardly away from the main battle.

Another cat stopped him.

"Running away, are we?" Gannetfur's claws dug into Frog's throat, pushing him to the ground.

"It's not what it looks like," Frog said, his aching body giving way to the tom's weight. The trembling returned as he stared up at cruel amber eyes.

"I'm sure it isn't," he replied. "But _they_ won't know that when I tell the story."

Black began to edge Frog's vision, the image of the tom growing darker and darker as his claws pressed in further. The tabby gasped for air, short useless bursts that did little to keep him alive.

"You don't belong here; you never did. I'll tell them who you really were - a weak, cowardly traitor, who used Swanpaw to gain the Clan's favour."

Gannetfur's words sounded distant, hardly registering in Frog's mind, but the name grew in volume, filling his head with its sound. Many things drove him to help her: pity, selflessness, _love_. Everything he did was for her. The way Gannetfur twisted his motives into selfish ones angered him, a fire lighting up inside, and the darkness slowly edged away as Frog pushed back, lifting himself off the ground.

The black and white tom hissed, trying to keep his paws on Frog, but the tabby bucked him off with his hind legs. The movement caused Frog to cry out in pain, the wound in his stomach tearing.

He rose to his paws as quickly as he could, dodging Gannetfur's renewed attack. If he died today, he wanted Swanpaw to know.

The main battle still raged, a blur of colour and flashes. Frog spotted her familiar white pelt quickly, but froze when he caught sight of the black loner. Dark against light, the two thrust their claws into each other's fur, jabbing and diving in an effort to unbalance the other. The tom seemed even larger now than when Frog was locked in battle with it, especially against Swanpaw's small frame.

It swiped its paw over Swanpaw's muzzle as Frog watched, paws trembling. She let out a pained cry, a crack sounding when she hit the ground. The tom loomed over her, paw raised, ready to kill. Terror washed over the tabby; he knew how this scene ended.

Frozen paws took action, launching him into the air as instinct took over. Swanpaw's beautiful eyes widened in shock, his name escaping her mouth just as the loner's claws descended.

_I told you I'd do anything,_ he thought before everything disappeared.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! If you're wondering if this is the end: no. I know I said there would only be four parts, but I didn't want to make this one any longer than it already is. So I'll be updating again with a sort of 'epilogue' sometime in the next couple of days! ****Until then, happy reading!**

**\- Spirit**


	5. Epilogue

Something sucked at his body, a sort of cool wind that wanted to take him away, off to a place where stars replaced fur. It's pull was strong, but he felt something pulling him in the other direction, a familiar warmth he couldn't place. He stood, suspended between two forces, waiting for something to change.

Slowly, the wind ebbed and the warmth took over, encompassing his form. It felt fragile; a figment of his imagination or a shadow of a memory he no longer held. The feeling of softness joined the warmth, along with a quiet sobbing. Curious, Frog opened his eyes.

He became aware of the aching of his body first and, immediately after, the touch of a small, pink nose. Shifting, he brought his head to Swanpaw's to give her ear a swift lick.

Her head snapped up, eyes meeting his, and before the tom could stop her, threw herself onto him. She licked his ears and forehead, his nose and hise mouth, and Frog could not help but purr.

"I was so worried," Swanpaw said, pushing her nose into the fur of his chest. Frog rested his head on top of hers, heart beating an eratic rhythm.

"It's alright, I'm still here," he replied softly. They remained in that position until another cat entered the den.

"Frogheart!" Rainberry's joyous voice, muffled by the stack of herbs in his jaws, made Frog turn his head. Behind him, Eggpaw dropped his own stack and rushed towards the injured tom's nest.

"Frogheart?" the tabby repeated, confused.

"Goosestar gave you your warrior name while you were dying," Eggpaw explained. "She wanted you to pass on as a warrior." The newly named Frogheart looked down at Swanpaw, eyes glittering.

"I don't think passing on will be necessary."

She purred, shifting even closer to him. "Thank StarClan."

"I hate to break this up," Rainberry mewed, approaching the pair. "But Frogheart needs something to strengthen him. The Clan will want to know about your recovery." The tom's eyes sparkled as he dropped some horsetail and juniper berries before the tabby.

After obediently swallowing the herbs, Frogheart let Eggpaw retell the story of the battle, resting his head on top of Swanpaw's as he listened. The excited apprentice recounted, in exaggerated detail, how Frogheart slumped onto the ground after the loner plunged his claws into his back and how Sleetstar leaped in to save him, battling the loner to the death. The battle ended with only two loners standing, both running away when they saw what became of their leader.

Though glad they won the battle, Frogheart felt saddened by the news of Sleetstar's death. "It was my fault he died," he said out loud, the guilt pressing down on him.

Swanpaw's response surprised him. "Maybe it was an accident, or fate, or StarClan's wish." They looked at each other, an understanding coming between them, and Frogheart pressed his nose to her forehead, suddenly overcome with emotion.

"Get a cave, you two," Eggpaw said, wrinkling his nose. "That's my sister you're touching, Frogheart."

They ignored him, content to breathe in each other's scent, delighted to be together.

* * *

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather below the Speaking Rock!"

Goosestar's voice broke the silence of the medicine den a couple days later, when Frogheart felt well enough to leave. Swanpaw, who spent her nights with him, helped him get to his paws, supporting him as they padded towards the main cave.

His whole body still ached, especially his scratch-covered shoulders. His side and belly, criss-crossed with jagged lines, were beginning to heal, the white tabby fur growing back steadily.

The warmth of the sun filled the main cave and Frogheart close his eyes, revelling in the feel of it. He purred, realizing how lucky he was to be alive. All those trials put before him, all the obstacles and enemies, and, against all odds, he'd defeated each one. With these thoughts in mind, he held his head high as he entered the main cave.

"Frogheart!" exclaimed a surprised Sandblaze as she passed through the cave.

"Welcome back, brave one," said Swiftclaw, looking down at the new warrior.

"You've certainly earned your warrior name," added Poolheart, eyes filled with pride.

Only Gannetfur remained silent, eyes narrowed. Frogheart ignored him, nodding his thanks to the others before turning to the Speaking Rock, where the new leader of SeaClan sat. The grey and white she-cat gazed down at him from atop her perch, eyes glittering.

"He certainly has," she said. Then, raising her voice to address the whole Clan, she said, "We lost many brave warriors in our battle. Mistcloud, Loonfeather and Rockclaw will be missed, as will our great leader Sleetstar." She paused, bowing her head. The Clan followed her lead.

"But we must live in the present," she continued, amber eyes falling upon Swanpaw. "I would like to ask our three apprentices to step forward." Beside Frogheart, Swanpaw jolted to her paws, looking incredulously at the tom. Purring, the tabby nudged her towards her littermates, feeling pride well up inside him.

"I, Goosestar, leader of SeaClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn." She spoke the traditional words slowly, with an air of authority that sent chills through Frogheart.

"Eggpaw, Hailpaw and Swanpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do," the three siblings chimed in unison.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names," Goosestar said, turning to each apprentice in turn as she spoke. "Eggpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Eggstripe. StarClan honours your warmth and enthusiasm, and we welcome you as a full warrior of SeaClan."

The newly named Eggstripe practically knocked Goosestar over as she rested her head upon his, giving her shoulder a lick so energetic that it unbalanced her for a moment. Recovering, she turned to Hailpaw.

"Hailpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Hailpelt. StarClan honours your courage and strength, and we welcome you as a full warrior of SeaClan." The white tom dipped his head respectfully before moving out of the way so that Goosestar could approach Swanpaw.

"Swanpaw," the she-cat said softly. "From this moment on you will be known as Swanstream. StarClan honours your intelligence and spirit, and we welcome you as a full warrior of SeaClan." Frogheart watched as Swanstream accepted her warrior name, joy-filled heart leaping when she turned to pad back to his side.

Then, the tabby noticed that Goosestar's eyes had settled on him. She followed behind Swanstream, stopping only once she stood directly in front of the tom.

"Frogheart," she greeted him. "You have already received your warrior name, but were unable to experience your warrior ceremony. We believed that your injuries were too great and that you would pass on to StarClan. Since that is not the case, you will be receiving your warrior name before the Clan today."

All around him, the cats of SeaClan drew closer, watching the tabby's ceremony curiously. The tom kept his head held high, waiting for Goosestar's words.

"Frogheart, StarClan honours your determination and bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of SeaClan." As Frogheart licked the leader's shoulder, the Clan erupted into cheers around him. All four warriors names echoed about the cave, a constant ripple of _Eggstripe, Hailpelt, Swanstream, Frogheart_ passing through the air.

The cats all around him - his _Clan_, he realized - pressed up against him, congratulating him on his successes. Somewhere further off, Eggstripe and Hailpelt received the same treatment, but Swanstream was nowhere to be seen. Twisting about until he caught sight of her, he found her amber eyes glittering at the entrance of the cave, before she disappeared with a flick of her white tail.

* * *

He found her sitting at the edge of the Sunset Cliffs, watching the sun sink below the horizon. Settling down beside her, he leaned over to lick her ear, their fur brushing for a brief moment.

"Swanstream," the she-cat said quietly, testing the name out on her tongue.

"Swanstream," Frogheart repeated, speaking the name with a sort of finality. He liked the way it sounded; delicate and soft, yet strong and fierce at the same time. And beautiful, just like her.

"Determination and bravery," Frogheart added, remembering the two virtues named by Goosestar.

Swanstream purred. "You sound surprised."

"I just never thought those two words would be used in the same sentence as my name," he said honestly, turning to look at her. "Remember when you first caught me on your border?"

"_Our_ border. And how could I not?" Frogheart shoved her playfully. Not ready for the impact, Swanstream toppled over, dragging the tom down with her so that the two were a tangle of limbs, white fur on the bottom and striped brown on top.

Gazing down at the she-cat, the idea of how different they were now than when they first met struck Frogheart. Back then, the possibility of sitting on these cliffs, in the place where a trial almost ended his life, in love with the very she-cat who captured him, would have been ludicrous.

And yet, it did not feel strange. It felt right, as if this was exactly where he was meant to be.

"I'm glad I caught you." Swanstream reached up, giving his whiskers an affectionate lick.

"I'm glad you let me in," Frogheart replied.

"Of course I did. I love you." At first, the tom thought he misheard the words, but the look in her amber eyes told him otherwise.

He let out a deep purr. "I love you too, Swanstream." He touched his nose to hers, breathing in the sweet scent of her breath and feeling the softness of her fur beneath him. They stayed entwined until the sun just peeked over the edge of the sea.

The she-cat stirred first, unintentionally knocking Frogheart to the side. It made him aware of how tired he was and how much his bones still ached, his injuriees forgotten during his moment with Swanstream.

"Come on, brave one," she said teasingly. "Rainberry will feed me to a seal if he finds out I've been keeping you out instead of letting you rest." She offered her shoulder to him and he took her offer of help gratefully, limping along beside her as they made their way back to camp.

"I think he already knew," Frogheart said. "I think they all knew."

Swanstream look at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, who stays up all night, every night, just keeping each other company?" He nudged her playfully, licking her cheek.

She considered this for a moment before replying. Licking his ear affectionately, she said: "Someone who's found their place."

* * *

**A/N: _Now_ it's over. I just couldn't leave that terrible cliffhanger ending like that and decided to finish it this way instead. I hope the story was enjoyable, despite how long it was, and if you found it boring, feedback on how I could improve would be very much appreciated. **

**I will be writing more stories about SeaClan/MoorClan, if you're interested - just hit the follow/favourite button to receive updates on my future writing :)**

**\- Spirit**


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